


Blue Eyed Obsession

by Durrant



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bottom Thor, Castration, Jotun!Loki, M/M, Sibling Incest, Top Loki, dildo, not between main characters, not of a main character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-28 05:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Durrant/pseuds/Durrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His brother must have been crying for some time, his eyes were swollen and his face was red and blotchy. Loki’s hand clenched into a fist. Thor was his, no one else should be able to affect him so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Loki heard Thor’s tears, great heaving sobs, carrying through the wall that separated their bedchambers. Thor was not supposed to cry; only Loki was allowed to cry, because he was younger and weaker and their parents expected less of him. Thor, who was strong and beloved by all and so clearly favoured by their parents, had never had a reason to cry in his life. This was something that Loki had to see. 

“Brother?” Loki asked as he entered Thor’s chamber. His brother was stretched out on the bed but quickly turned his head away from Loki, foolishly trying to hide the tears that were streaming down his face. He’d thought that the sight of Thor, his eyes swollen and tears staining his cheeks, would bring him joy. This was the proof that Thor was no better than him. Instead, Loki’s jaw clenched in anger. Thor was crying but Loki wanted to be the cause of his tears, not some stranger that had no claim over him. 

“I cannot play with you now, little brother. I must rest,” Thor said, his voice muffled as he buried his face into his pillow. 

“You had time to play with Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg,” Loki retorted accusingly, even as he sidled closer to the bed. Thor was _his_ brother, he shouldn’t spend so much time in training with those ridiculous friends of his. If one of those fools had made Thor this way then he would make them pay for it dearly.

“I must rest,” Thor repeated, ”But I will play with you before the evening meal. I promise you, Loki.”

That wasn’t good enough, he wanted his brother’s attention now. He wanted to know who had made his brother cry. After all, he would need to avenge him. Thor was too soft-hearted to understand the need for revenge; without punishment such people would only inflict more pain. Loki did not want to see his brother brought to tears again, not until Loki chose it. 

“Don’t you trust me, Thor? You have seen me cry before, did you think less of me because of it? Were my tears shameful? Do you think yourself so much better than me that you must hide your tears?” Loki asked. Eventually, after Thor had rubbed his face into his pillow and wiped the tears from his face, he sat up and turned to Loki. His brother must have been crying for some time, his eyes were very swollen and his face was red and blotchy. He looked ugly aside from the blue of his eyes, made all the bluer now that they were rimmed in red. Loki’s hand clenched into a fist. Thor was his, no one else should be able to affect him so much. 

“Hrafn, the horse master, has barred me from the stables. He said I’m fit only to ride a donkey whilst my friends were put on stallions,” Thor’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke. Loki reached out and ran his fingers over Thor’s red cheek; his brother leaned into the touch like an animal, starved for affection. 

“Have no fear, I will take care of it,” Loki said gently as he continued to stroke his brother’s cheek. He couldn’t stop, it was so fascinating to see his own fingers touching Thor and Thor allowing it, not turning him away but relaxing into it as if this were normal. 

“Loki, there is nothing to take care of. I must train harder and be better. And I am the elder brother, it is my duty to take care of you. You need not defend me,” Thor sighed heavily and shuffled closer to him. 

“You see the world as black and white, but there are always shades of grey. Hrafn has long nursed a grudge against the Allfather, but dared not speak out against him. Being cruel to you is his way of spiting our father.” Loki moved closer as he spoke. He could feel Thor’s breath on his face and the air he breathed in was warm from his brother’s mouth. 

Thor’s face lit up with joy. 

“So, I could ride a stallion?” Thor asked jubilantly, “Brother, this is glorious news. You have made me so happy! You…”

Thor leaned forward and pressed his lips to Loki’s; nothing more than a chaste kiss. It felt so beautiful, so good and, even when Thor began to move away, Loki could not let it end. He wrapped his arms around Thor’s neck and held him in place. His brother was stronger and could have easily thrown him off, but Thor did not. Emboldened, Loki opened his mouth and licked at Thor’s lips, pleading with his brother to open his mouth, to let Loki kiss him properly. Thor opened his lips with the tiniest of moans. Loki pushed inside, rough and ready to claim but suddenly Thor pulled away. 

“Brother,” Thor panted, his eyes wide and frantic, “We must not.”

Loki pulled back, his lips wet with Thor’s saliva and the taste of his brother heavy on his tongue. 

Within the week Loki had arranged for Hrafn to be dismissed and another horse master was found; one that was only too happy to let Thor ride as he wished. That week, and for years after, Thor’s words rung in Loki’s ears. _Brother, we must not_. Thor hadn’t said ‘No,’ he hadn’t said that he didn’t want Loki’s kiss, he hadn’t even said that they could not kiss. 

Thor had wanted him, and had only pushed Loki away out a misguided sense of propriety. 

It was a wound that festered, an itch he couldn’t scratch. Loki watched as Thor grew stronger; his golden skin and blue eyes attracting lustful glances from many in the Allfather’s court. Although, as yet, Thor seemed completely oblivious to them, Loki dreaded the day that Thor would realise what such looks meant. When Loki was King, things would be different. Then he would make things right; he would make it illegal for anyone to touch Thor, for anyone to even look at his Thor. 

In the meantime, there was nothing he could do. Thor grew larger, his muscles honed from the hours spent in mock fights and playing with swords. Loki grew too; his magic became stronger but no-one praised him for it. No-one asked him for demonstrations of his prowess. Instead, all he heard were the increasingly loud mutterings around the court; such a disgrace for a man to be so skilled in a women’s art. Even Odin himself began to look askance whenever Loki left his books and came to the Feasting Hall.


	2. Chapter 2

When Thor’s beard had fully grown, no longer the straggly hairs of an adolescent, he decided that it was time that he set off on a quest. 

“It is well past time,” Thor said, tearing a piece of meat from the cooked bird in front of him at the Feasting Table, “We shall hunt bilgesnipe and capture them for ourselves, without the aid of any other warriors.”

Loki snorted and reached to stab a piece of meat but Volstagg reached the bird before Loki could, pulling the whole carcass onto his plate.

“A noble quest, indeed,” Loki said snidely, watching Thor’s cheek redden as it always did when he thought Loki was complimenting him. 

“Or, perhaps,” Fandral leaned forward, twisting his newly grown moustache with his fingers. “We should hunt something pleasanter.”

Volstagg stifled a sudden noise and coughed, again and again, until Hogun slapped him on the back and he spat out a hunk of half-eaten flesh. 

“Pleasanter?” Thor asked in confusion, but Loki already had an inkling of what Fandral was suggesting. His stomach felt cold and he wanted to click his fingers and sever Fandral tongue from its root before he could spread his poison to Thor. “What could be pleasanter to hunt than bilgesnipe?”

Volstagg picked up his mead and eyed Thor. 

“You have listened to the same tales that warriors tell as we have. How does every hunting story begin?”

Thor shook his head.

“Friend, you speak in riddles. Do you not wish to hunt bilgesnipe?”

“I do,” Volstagg wiped his hand across his beard, cleaning off the flecks of food and mead that had caught there. “But this time, our first hunting trip, perhap we should aim for smaller, fairer prey.”

At that Hogun grinned, finally understanding what the others were suggesting. Only Thor, naive and stupid Thor, remained ignorant.

“There is a tavern,” Fandral said slowly, his wheedling voice pitched to be as persuasive as possible; how Loki yearned to pluck his moustache from his head, to make him scream and leave him as bare faced as a boy. “In the last village before the plains, where warriors stop to pass a comfortable night before the hunt begins.”

“Aye?” Thor asked, nonplussed.

“I think, brother, your quest sounds highly entertaining. I shall accompany you,” Loki said loftily. Thor turned to him at once, his innocent smile lighting his whole face until Loki wanted to smack it from his head. That smile belonged only to Loki, no other should see it. 

“I didn’t think that we are hunting that which you wished to catch,” Volstagg muttered.

Loki sneered across the table at him but the others paid no mind to Volstagg’s words. Thor remained as confused as ever and said nothing to defend Loki. 

“And in this tavern,” Fandral continued, raising his voice slightly to attract everyone’s attention back to him. “They say that mead flows freely, the serving wenches are comely and the beds are _warm_.”

Thor finally understood what his friends were suggesting; instead of a hunting trip they wanted to go to a remote tavern, drink themselves silly and fuck any bar wench that would have them. His mouth gaped open, and he looked quickly at Loki who plastered a smile on his face. 

“Friends,” Thor began, his eyebrows knitting in that way that indicated he was attempting deep thought. “Surely, for our first quest, we cannot return empty handed. Our honour would depend on bringing home the head of a beast.”

“Then we can hunt for bilgesnipe too, after we have relieved ourselves of the remnants of our childhood. What a thing, Thor, we shall all become men on the same night! It will be an unsurpassable bond of friendship!” Fandral said, his primped face beaming. 

Loki reached for a dish further down the table, knocking Thor’s cup over so that it spilled across his plate and into his lap. 

“Loki,” Thor said resignedly, but his heart was not in it; it was barely a reprimand. Thor’s mind was on Fandral’s words and he would not be distracted. Loki wanted to grab him by the cheek and force him to admonish Loki for spilling his drink and spoiling his food. But, today, his brother had no time for him.

“Then it is decided!” Hogun nodded, “We shall leave tomorrow.”

“After lunch,” Volstagg added, “The journey is not long and there is no reason to start our quest with an empty belly. We shall still be there before night fall.”

“Agreed,” Fandral declared happily.

“Agreed,” Thor echoed dully, but the others didn’t seem to notice. Thor rose, not even deigning to look at Loki. “I must prepare for our quest.”

Loki watched him leave. Thor could not escape him so easily. He’d rather see Thor dead than in the hands of another. He could imagine it now, Thor and the Warriors Three surrounded by bar wenches whose loose tits sagged from revealing clothes like common whores. 

“I have heard,” Volstagg said, glancing between Hogun and Fandral, “Such stories of this tavern. I cannot think of a better place for our first true hunt together.”

Loki stood abruptly, the noise of his boots masking the sound of his magic as he turned Volstagg’s mead to vinegar and smashed the mirror that Fandral kept in his pocket.

“Not even hunting bilgesnipe?” Loki asked sarcastically. Volstagg just scoffed and raised his tankard to his lips. Loki left, moving quickly so that Volstagg would not be able to find him after he discovered the trick that Loki had played on him. 

He made his way through the hallways of Asgard, not caring that so many turned away from him. He was too angry. Thor was leaving tomorrow to fuck some harlot; his beautiful, stupid Thor who should never be allowed to look at another person. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to kill the Warriors Three. His books were still open on his desk, but he couldn’t bear to look at them now. What he needed was a spell, a very specific one. He’d unman Thor, he’d find a spell that guaranteed Thor could never penetrate another. It had to be subtle, nothing that would incur Odin’s wrath. Something that Thor would be too ashamed of to complain about. He’d make him impotent, incapable of getting hard. All he had to do was find such a spell. His books hinted that such spells existed, but he did not know them. 

He went to the library, scouring the shelves, long into the night, until, finally, he collapsed into a deep sleep. Loki woke with a start, his head resting against an open book. He sat up quickly, terrified that he’d overslept and Thor had left already. The light coming in through the window was still soft; it was not yet noon. 

Loki made his way to his chambers. He had not found the spell he wanted and he needed to come up with another plan to stop Thor sharing his body with some undeserving whore. Pushing his bedroom door open, he didn’t notice at first the piece of parchment that had been left atop the pile of books on his desk. 

That increasingly familiar feeling of dread curled in his stomach when he saw Thor’s handwriting, scrawled inelegantly across the parchment

 _Brother,  
Our plans have changed and we are set to leave with all haste. It is just after dawn, but I cannot find you. Perhaps this is fortuitous. Such adventures as this are not to be shared between brothers. I promise, little brother, that the two of us shall hunt bilgesnipe together soon, Thor_

Loki read the letter twice through, his anger building with every word he read. He was just a little brother to Thor; someone who was easily brushed off and left behind. He should chase them down and force them to beg for his forgiveness and his mercy. He screwed the parchment into a ball and set it aflame with a pulse of magic. 

He had no need to travel to the ends of Asgard just to lose his virginity. His anger simmered as he made his way to the stables. His very skin tingled with his magic, bursting to get out and wreak a terrible vengeance on Thor and everyone who had ever slighted him. 

“You,” Loki called out, jerking his head at a stable boy. He was a pretty enough youth; he looked nothing like Thor. “Come with me.”

The lad followed after him as Loki led him to the far end of the stables, which he knew were empty and would be private enough for what he had in mind. 

“Strip,” Loki commanded. The lad’s mouth opened, floundering idiotically and then forming a mischievous grin.

“Yes, my Prince,” the lad said, removing one garment and then the next in a painful attempt at seduction. When he was naked, Loki began to undress. There was a certain amount of pleasure in watching the stable boy. The lad’s little cock hardened with every inch of pale flesh that Loki revealed. It was almost flattering. “I can,” he blushed, stepping towards Loki with none of the respect that Loki’s royal blood demanded. “I could help you relax, my Prince.”

He wrapped his hand around Loki’s cock, his warm, dry fingers squeezing him. Loki gasped, almost pulling away. This wasn’t what he wanted. That didn’t matter anymore, what he wanted had left, gone to fuck some faceless cunt. 

Loki wrestled the lad to the floor, landing on top of him. The hay was clean, but the stables themselves stank of horses. Was this what Asgard’s second son deserved? The lad laughed, his small, hard cock rubbing against Loki’s prick. He wanted to fuck the laughter out of him. Why should anyone be happy when Thor was not his?

Suddenly, the lad rolled them over.

“Isn’t that better?” he grinned down at Loki, his grin still mischievous. 

“No,” Loki grunted as the lad rutted against him. Although the lad was not well muscled, he was still stronger than Loki. He had no spells that would simply remove the boy from on top of him. 

“This is what you prefer, everyone knows it.” The stable boy kissed his neck, “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

A hand snaked between his legs, finding its way to his entrance even as Loki clamped his legs shut and tried to push the lad off him. 

“Stop, I command you,” Loki bit out through gritted teeth. The indignity of this was too much. He was a Prince and yet this _stable boy_ dared to presume himself better, more manly, than Loki. 

“Hush,” the lad kissed his chest, one finger pressing against his rim. This was not what Loki wanted; no man would ever mount him. 

“Release me, or suffer,” Loki hissed, but the lad was still pushing his dry finger into Loki. He uttered the first spell that came to mind after a long night researching spells to cause impotency. The whispered word took shape, stealing the magic from his body, draining away his anger as everything went into the spell. The boy screamed in sudden, inexorable pain. Loki pushed him off, finally freeing himself. The lad didn’t notice, he was too busy clutching at the bloody gash where his testicles had once attached to his body. The useless things lay on the hay, bloody and forlorn. Loki picked them up, poking at one pearly white testicle as it tried to roll away.

Someone ran into the stables, one of the other stable hands, drawn by the screams of his friend. The second stable boy paled when he saw what Loki had done, too scared to approach his friend while Loki was still so close by. 

“Help him,” Loki magicked on some clothes and, with one last look at the boy he’d gelded, he pocketed the boy’s balls. “Or not.” He shrugged and went back to his chamber. His anger at Thor still simmered beneath the surface, but it was tempered by the rage that anyone would dare lay their hands on him in such a manner as the stable boy had done. Was this what all of Asgard thought of him? He squeezed the testicles in his hand. This would put a quick end to any such rumours. 

Frigga came to him only hours after the incident. The lad’s father had complained to Odin and Loki must face justice. He smiled prettily at his mother and wondered if Thor would have faced the same fate. He doubted it. Odin would have accepted that Thor had acted justly, without explanation or excuse. Yet again, Loki saw how he was treated unjustly. Frigga wrung her hands and fussed over him. He left the stable boys testicles on his bookshelf when he went to face Odin. It was too late to re-attach them now. 

Odin sat on his throne, listening to the complaints of the stable boy's father. The old man mewled pathetically whilst Odin sat, judging Loki with every sad glance, looking down at both them; Loki with his back held straight and his expression calm, the old man hunched over and pitiful. The courtiers had been sent away, so no-one could pry as Odin sat in judgement of his own son. 

“My only son!” the old man wailed. “My only hope to pass on my blood and my name.”

“Peace, Gosta,” Odin said, his voice steady and calm. “You will have justice today. Loki, my son, do you know of what Gosta speaks?”

Loki nodded, regretting now that he’d left the boy’s balls in his room. If the old man wanted them back so badly he could have them. 

“I do, Father,”

“He doesn’t deny it! He must be punished!”

The All-Father punched his fist against the armrest of his throne; the noise echoed around the empty throne room. The old man shivered, bowing his neck, but Loki stood tall, proud and uncowed. 

“You castrated his son,” Odin said, his voice cracking in anger. Finally, Loki looked away, feigning remorse. 

“I did. He accused me of being _ergi_ , in the most despicable of ways, at the most intimate of times.”

Odin blinked his one eye. His demeanor changed, his shoulders relaxing as he looked at Loki in a way that was almost tender.

“Is this true, Gosta? Did Egil so accuse him?”

“My King,” the old man withered, seeming to realise with horror that Odin’s judgement might go against him. “Egil is an honourable man -”

“Did he so accuse him?” Odin’s voice rose, angry and indignant. Loki watched him through hooded eyes and thought, maybe, it was the anger of father, rather than that of a king. 

“It is well known that he practices seidr!” the old man squealed, pointing a shaky finger at Loki. It was unmanly to practise magic, the sort of thing that only an _ergi_ , a man who let other men penetrate him, would use.

“Do you accuse me of ergi as well? Shall we duel too, old man? I can prove my manliness by wiping out the last of your line right now, before your king,” Loki cried. 

Odin’s lips twitched, suppressing a smile. 

“Gosta, there is nothing to be done. Your son challenged Loki, and lost, there is no legal recourse. Be glad that Loki spared his life and does not sue for your family’s money and properties.”

The old man shook his head in disbelief, sinking to his knees with a broken cry. Odin rose, beckoning Loki to him with a wave of his hand. 

“My son,” Odin said as soon as they left the throne room, clasping Loki around the shoulders in a hug in a way that he hadn’t since Loki had been a small child. He let himself be held. Odin was proud of him only because he had doubted him in the past. His own father had thought him ergi, and was happy to be proved wrong. He wanted to push Odin away, but he didn’t. His father smelled of leather and parchment, just as he had when Loki was young. 

Frigga sent word of what had happened to Thor, who cut short his quest and hurried home. He knocked on Loki’s bedroom door just after dawn. Loki almost sent him away, before realising who it was. His brother was dirty from travelling so far, there was dust in his hair and mud on his boots.

“Brother,” Thor said, his voice full of pain when Loki opened the door to him. Strong arms gripped hold of him and Loki found himself pressed against Thor’s chest so tightly that he could feel the mounds of Thor’s muscle bound tits. “I heard what has befallen you and I have returned to offer you my aid.”

Loki stood aside, letting his brother into his chambers. Thor’s arrogance always annoyed him. What use did Thor possibly suppose he could be? Loki smiled, for once he could forgive his brother’s arrogance. He had chosen to return home to help Loki, rather than stay in a desolate tavern, giving himself to some diseased quim. 

“Mother,” Thor paused biting at his lips and turning them white. Loki wanted to reach out and touch them, he wanted to press his thumb to Thor’s lips, to stop Thor biting at himself and soothe those lips. Those lips were his to mark, and only his. They should be plump and swollen with Loki’s kisses, not from Thor’s worrying. “Mother,” Thor began again, sitting, uninvited, on the chair in front of Loki’s desk. “She told me about what happened. That you were with a stable boy.”

Thor stopped, standing suddenly and beginning to pace. 

“I didn’t know that you had ever, that you had any interest in the stables,” Thor rambled. “She told me of Egil’s accusation, that he accused you in a moment of passion. That you _unmanned_ the lad, and that the Allfather agreed what you did was just! That Odin thinks you were merciful even, to let him live!”

Thor’s eyes seemed larger than normal and it took Loki a moment to realise why. He was crying, unshed tears glistened in his eyes. Loki sank down on the bed, letting himself indulge in the fantasy that Thor was crying over him. That Thor was jealous that Loki’s desire lay elsewhere. In his heart, he knew why Thor was so upset; it had always pained him to see Loki as anything more than a child, to finally know the depths of cruelty that Loki was capable of would be too much for Thor to stand. 

Thor turned away, standing in front of Loki’s bookshelves, full of books that Thor would never bother to read. 

“Do you,” Thor asked, his back still to Loki as he began to poke at something on the bookshelf. “Do you hate the ergi so very much?”

Loki chuckled in bemusement, waiting for Thor to tell him that he needn’t have been so unkind, but Thor stood, restless and silent, waiting for Loki to speak.

“No,” Loki said finally, circling round his brother until he saw what had caught Thor’s attention. They were no longer recognisably human, just a drying hunk of flesh on his book shelf. Thor wasn’t quite touching them with his finger as he stared down, mesmerised. “No, I don’t hate them. I don’t see why I should. It has always struck me as perverse, to glorify the role of one man above another in the pursuit of pleasure.”

Thor nodded slowly, looking no less anguished.

“Odin does not think thusly,” Thor said, his eyes still on Egil’s drying balls. Loki shrugged indifferently. There wasn’t a single soul in all the Nine Realms who would ever mutter about Loki’s unmanliness every again. Not as long as they valued their lives and their balls. Odin himself had smiled upon Loki’s behaviour. Thor seemed to put the thought from his mind as he clasped Loki’s shoulder. “I’m glad that you are unharmed, little brother.”

Loki smiled, feeling the press of Thor’s hand against him and the heat of his brother’s body. Thor didn’t return his smile, his face still grave as he left Loki’s bedchamber. With a speculative stare, Loki watched him go. 

Time passed in the Asgardian way. Days flew by too quickly, one blurring into the next in a meaningless passage of time. Loki studied, his magic growing stronger every day. But Asgardians themselves moved slowly; years passed by with temperaments unchanged and old prejudices unchallenged. Thor remained the golden heir, strong and dazzling to all that met him, whilst Loki skulked in the shadows, still looked down upon, even if he was slightly better than ergi. 

Over the years, Thor went on many quests; he travelled into distant Realms and hunted enough bilgesnipe to appease even Volstagg’s hunger. Loki kept his ears open for any scrap of news, for any tales of lusty bar wenches, but no rumour ever reached him. 

He told himself that he would let Thor go, that he would stop coveting his brother so jealously, as soon as he proved himself disloyal, but Thor remained abstinent and pure. 

Standing in the shadows, Loki watched as Thor gulped back more mead. Today Thor celebrated returning from an expedition to Alfheim. His brother threw his head back and gave a loud, easy laugh; the warriors around him laughed too. They all wanted to be near him, to bask in Thor’s light while Loki stood in the dark.

But Loki was not the same young man who simply watched with jealous, impotent rage. He had learned the ways of seidr more thoroughly than any Asgardian before him. It was so easy, too easy, when his brother’s mind was so addled, for Loki to slip inside his head and see Thor’s thoughts. What he saw there made Loki’s heart pound. This changed everything. Loki turned and ran to Thor’s bedchamber, sprinting through the hallways not caring, in his desperation, about his dignity.

He knew exactly where it would be; hidden in a box, pressed to the very back of the wardrobe. Loki couldn’t stop himself from trembling as he opened the box and gazed down at Thor’s secret. The stick of black metal that his brother fucked himself with; his brother’s dildo. The urge to touch, to smell it, to feel the heaviness of it in his hands, was overwhelming. He had a mad impulse to steal the thing, to hide it away in his own chamber so that Thor would have to come to him, begging him, for a cock to fuck himself upon. 

There was no time; the feast would end soon and Thor would return. Heimdall was always watching; there was no privacy and, even if there were, Loki had no idea what he would do with it. All he could do was stand, helplessly holding onto his brother’s dildo and yearning. Everything would be well, the years of being second best, of being slighted, if he just had Thor. His brother would beg for it, would submit to him, and no one else. Loki gave the dildo an experimental lick, it didn’t taste of anything but that didn’t matter. What was important was that Thor would use this, and when he did then some part of Loki, even if it was a flake of dried spit, would be inside him. Loki put the dildo back in the box, hiding it away at the back of the wardrobe and he began to plan. 

When he was king, Thor would be his. He’d make his brother kneel and then, with Thor on bended knee and his perfect mouth just in front of Loki’s eager cock, then he would tell Thor the truth. He’d tell him that he knew Thor’s secret, he’d appease his brother with honeyed words. He’d take Thor to his bed and take mastery of him, just as surely and completely as he would take mastery over all of Asgard. 

It became an obsession, the longer his thoughts dwelled on it. He’d roam the streets of Asgard, his thoughts not on politics or making mischief, but instead on thoughts of Thor, spread out before him. All those years that he’d spent, loving Thor and yet hating him, seemed forgotten. There was no need to hate anymore; not if he could fuck him. He’d lie in bed at night, imagining Thor beside him but in the morning his bed was always empty and it was harder to imagine, in the harsh golden light, that Thor was there with him. He went to the Feasting Hall at mealtimes, just so he could catch glimpses of Thor’s lips, pink and luscious, as he ate. What would those lips feel like when Loki pressed kiss after kiss on them? What would they feel like, pressed tight around his cock?

There wasn’t a day that passed that Loki did not imagine such things. He grew pale, withdrawing from palace life. Nothing interested him like it once had. Life was empty and dull. 

Late one night, when thoughts of Thor had driven him, unsatisfied, from his bed, Loki’s silent footsteps found their way to Odin’s vault. There were treasures here that would one day belong to him, but the thought did not cheer him. These were just objects, what were they compared to Thor? 

Rage filled him, flaring suddenly. None of Loki’s silent, unacted upon, schemes brought Thor any nearer to him, but whose fault was that? Surely it was Thor’s? How dare he not love Loki as ardently, as all-consumingly, as Loki loved him! 

Picking up the nearest thing with every intention of smashing it upon the ground, of letting his anger out to smite something precious of Odin’s, Loki paused. His fingers felt cold and, as he held on to the small chest, his hand became cold too. Ice spread through his veins and along his arm towards his heart. Though it was cold, it did not burn him; his body welcomed the cooling balm. 

His very skin had turned blue. In his amazement, his anger was forgotten and he put the casket down carefully. He recognised the treasure for what it was, the casket of Ancient Winters.

The Casket would not effect an Aesir as it had affected him. He understood the magic of this thing and there was only one conclusion to draw. He screamed, his sudden rage going unheard and unnoticed beneath the halls of Asgard. 

Loki thought he would go mad. All the years of being lied to. His parents love and his hope to become king, those were both lies. He was Jotun. He was a cuckoo in the nest and now he understood why his parents, those people who had called themselves his parents, had never loved him as they had loved Thor. Thor, beautiful Thor, was no longer his brother. 

It was such good news, such wonderful news, that it almost made up for all the deceit. Thor was not his brother, but he would still be Loki’s.

All these past long months when his mind had festered and rotted with inactivity were finally over. His mind had dulled, unable to think of a single scheme that would bring Thor to his bed. Now, armed with his new knowledge, Loki plotted, ideas coming to him easily. So it was with surprise that, hours later, he heard his brother’s heavy knock upon his bedroom door. 

“Brother?” Thor asked, opening the door and letting himself in without permission. How Loki wanted to tear Thor’s tongue for uttering such a lie; they had never been anything more than strangers, playing at being brothers. “You have not come to the Feasting Hall this past day.”

“Truly?” Loki smiled through his bitterness, swallowing his bile. He’d spent so long trying to get Thor’s attention and the only time that Thor noticed was when Loki was absent. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

“How could I not?” Thor asked, shaking his head so that his beautiful golden hair fell forward. “It has long been our custom to dine together.”

Loki cocked his head, considering. Perhaps Thor’s affection could be manipulated to his purpose after all. A plan came to him, fully formed and perfect.

With his knowledge of the dark, secret passageways between the Realms, it was simplicity itself to slip into Jotunheim; he did not bother to bid farewell to his false family. From there, in that cold and unforgiving place, full of angry and restless souls, it was easy to foment rebellion against Asgard’s tyranny. In such desperate times, it was easy to make sure that Laufey took him back and reclaimed Loki as his son. Even making sure the two worlds were kept in a perpetual state of tension, on the brink war, with raids and skirmishes every week was just as easy. All sides must see the importance of finding a way to make peace and how useful it would be it an alliance could be forged through marriage.

However, living in Jotunheim was not easy. In his new form, he did not feel the cold, but he felt alone as he never had before. He should be gaining political power here, before he left, but without Thor here, without his wide eyed innocence, there seemed little point. 

Loki practised scrying but he could never see what he wanted. Sometimes he would catch glimpses of Thor as he trained with his friends or, occasionally, out hunting. It would almost have been a relief to see Thor kissing someone else. At least then he would have known. As it was, Loki found himself in a sort of limbo, unable to concentrate as he imagined all the scenarios in which some harpy might seduce his false brother. 

Instead, he had a new brother. Byleistr was tall; mighty in the way of all the other Frost Giants. Loki loathed him and for three long months he had to listen to his boastful braying. It was enough to make him yearn for the mindless banalities that Thor so often uttered

“Laufey will send you,” Byleistr crowed one day. Loki gritted his teeth, not knowing what Byleistr was talking about and annoyed to be left out of the gossip of the court. “Sending the runt of the litter back to Asgard to whore himself out.” The Frost Giant laughed as he towered over him. His brother. Loki curled his lip in disgust, but inwardly he rejoiced.

His plan had worked perfectly. Soon he would return to Asgard. The political marriage of the son of Laufey and the son of Odin would ensure peace between the two kingdoms. Loki was so close he could almost taste it, could almost feel Thor’s lips pressing against his once again. Rather than ask Byleistr any questions, and thus show his ignorance, Loki smiled, pretending that he had already been informed of Laufey's plan. 

“Perhaps, yet I am whoring myself to stop the deaths of thousand. What does letting your soldiers fuck you buy you, dear brother?” Loki asked glibly. He didn’t know if the accusation was true, but judging by Byleistr’s swift anger there must be a kernel of truth to it. Byleistr’s hands were covered in ice, ready to strike Loki although the blow never came. 

“How does it feel to know that no parent has ever loved you?” Byleistr spat. Loki shrugged, bored with this argument. Soon he would have Thor and then it would not matter that none of his parents, not those by blood nor those by adoption, had truly cared for him. 

Arrangements for the royal wedding happened swiftly, with Loki not even allowed to voice his opinion on when or where the ceremony should take place. It was yet another part of his life that he had no control over, but he didn’t truly care; soon he would have Thor.

Asgard was as beautiful as ever, but in his Jotun skin it felt too hot. He longed to change back into his Aesir form but that would have to wait. The court must see him as a Jotun now. Thor must see him like this and realise that it was not his brother that was fucking him. It would not be incest if they did not share blood. Finally, after so long spent planning and scheming, Thor would be his. Legally, morally, physically; _his._ No one could object, not even Thor.

At last, he was home. Loki walked up the steps to the Great Hall as a returning hero; a bringer of peace. Laufey strode in front of him, but even that could not distract from his pleasure as the great doors swung open to reveal that the ceremony was already prepared. The Hall was filled with Asgardians and there, in the distance, Thor was waiting for him in front of the altar. He was already kneeling before Odin and ready to swear his vows of matrimony. Loki could barely hold back his excitement and joy as he walked down the aisle as quickly as he could without being unseemly. Thor was waiting for _him._ It was more perfect than anything Loki had imagined, even in all the months that he had planned this. 

His brother glanced at him as Loki knelt next to him, but other than that he did not acknowledge his presence. That was of no matter, there would be plenty of time later. Odin gazed down at them sadly and began the ceremony. Loki glanced again at his brother but Thor’s gaze remained fixed on Odin’s boots and he did not look up; even when he swore eternal love and loyalty to Loki. 

The wedding feast was blessedly short. Odin and Laufey looked down from the High Table as the warriors of Asgard loudly celebrated the newfound peace. Loki and Thor sat between them and, even though Loki was eager to talk to his brother after their separation, they sat in silence. 

Loki put his hand on his new husband’s thigh, his fingers gently caressing the muscles he found there. Thor paled, but did not move away. 

“This is,” Thor said quietly, “A marriage of realms, not men.”

Loki’s breath stuttered. Surely Thor was not implying that he expected this marriage to remain unconsummated? Loki gave Thor’s thigh one last squeeze before withdrawing his hand. He did not want his brother’s first words to him after their long separation to be a rejection. 

“The day has been long and I am tired,” Loki said, standing and bowing slightly to both Laufey and Odin, “I think it is time to retire.”

Thor rose slowly, reluctantly, and Loki felt his heart clench. Had he misinterpreted Thor’s kiss all those years ago? All his scheming had been based on the assumption that Thor wanted him, maybe not as much he desired Thor, but enough to make all this worthwhile; enough to guarantee that Thor would come to his bed willingly, given the right circumstances. Now he was not so sure. 

Thor led him towards their chambers. The familiar hallways falling away as Loki desperately reminded himself that he still couldn’t touch Thor. Not yet. Soon, he would be able to touch his husband, to do all the things he’d dreamed of doing to him; but not yet. 

The chamber door slammed shut behind them. Thor sat heavily on their bed, but did not remove any of his clothing. Loki marshalled his thoughts and arguments and waited for Thor to begin. It did not take long. 

“It is strange to see you like this, Loki,” Thor said suddenly, gesturing towards Loki. 

“Does your new husband displease you?” Loki asked snidely. The Frost Giants were the monsters of children’s stories for many Asgardians and he knew he was not appealing in this form. 

“No, Loki,” Thor turned his head as if ashamed, “You are as pleasant to look at as you have always been.”

“Then,” Loki smirked, “Do you not desire me?”

“I..It is wrong, you are my brother. _We must not.”_ Thor said plaintively.

“You would break your wedding vows mere hours after you swear them? You have changed while I’ve been away; the Thor I knew had more honour.” Thor shifted uneasily and refused to look at his brother. “And what of the treaty? Was the wedding ceremony just a farce? If we don’t consummate this marriage then there can be no peace. You know this.”

“Loki,” Thor whispered, “It is wrong.”

Loki watched his brother, so beautifully conflicted between his desire and his morals. He paled his skin, feeling the cold retreat within him as he once again took on the appearance of an Aesir. Approaching the bed with caution, he sat beside his brother. Thor shifted slightly, but did not move away. He was like a frightened animal, and Loki intended to break him, to tame him and to master him. He leant forward to whisper in his brother’s ear. 

“How can bringing peace be wrong? Our marriage brings only glory to Asgard,” his whispered words caressed Thor’s ear and Loki saw the skin of his brother’s neck pebble with arousal. Desire burned through him; this was _his_ brother, and _his_ husband, and all the world should know it. 

He dove at Thor, pushing him onto his back. Thor’s legs opened so easily that Loki almost doubted his virginity as he settled himself between Thor’s thighs. The thin cloth of their wedding clothes did nothing to hide Thor’s hardening cock from him. Loki smiled, rubbing himself onto his brother.

“You forget yourself, Loki. If we must do this, then it is only right that…” Thor trailed off, blushing faintly. He was too ashamed to utter the words out loud, but Loki knew what he was saying; that Loki was ergi and would be happy to bend over for his big brother. 

“Why? Why should we deny ourselves what we both wish for. What I am as happy to offer as you are to receive.”

“Brother!” Thor roared, glancing towards the door as if scared that someone might be listening to them . 

“Thor, we are married now. There is no shame. What happens within the conjugal chambers is important only to us.”

“Neither of us are ergi,” Thor hissed angrily, pushing him off with ease. Loki scowled quickly before remembering himself and putting on a peaceable expression. Next time, he would bind Thor with rope fashioned from seidr, so that he would not be able to push his husband away so easily. 

“Fair enough,” Loki said lightly, seeming to agree with Thor. His brother relaxed, his shoulders slumping and his face falling in beautiful disappointment. “But,” Loki continued sharply, “That does not alter the fact that the marriage must be consummated.”

He frowned, tapping his finger against his lips as he pretended to consider their dilemma. 

“We could simply say that we have consummated the marriage,” Thor said plaintively. Loki shook his head decisively.

“No, there was seidr in the vows we took. If we do not honour our oaths then everyone will know.”

Thor looked at him, his blue eyes shining with the naive hope that Loki would make everything better. He snapped his fingers as if a thought had just struck him. 

“I have an idea,” Loki said, standing up swiftly. “We shall have a contest, right here in our room and the winner shall be declared the more manly and he shall mount the other. That way there will be no dishonour for the loser, because he will have been bested. Don’t you agree?”

Thor slumped forward, his arms resting on his knees as he sat on the edge of the bed. His muscles bulged so obscenely that Loki wanted to bite into them and test their strength with his teeth. 

“Very well,” Thor looked up, clearly certain that there was no contest in which Loki would best him. “But you may not use seidr.”

Loki scoffed at his arrogance. If seidr was so powerful, why should it be so reviled? But Loki did not argue; for once, Thor’s impulsiveness would work out to Loki’s advantage. 

“As you wish,” he looked around the room with a thoughtful expression. 

“We should arm wrestle,” Thor said unenthusiastically, eyeing Loki’s thinner arms wearily.

“If you wish, husband, to gamble your arse by testing your strength against a Frost Giant, then by all means, let us,” Loki said, striving to sound equitable. He was not sure that, even in his Jotun form, he would beat Thor in a test of pure strength. “However, I can think of a contest that is less crude.”

Thor sighed and nodded for him to continue. He smiled, his mouth suddenly dry as he walked over to a low table and pretended to idly examine the contents of a tray of refreshments that had been left there for them.

“Here,” Loki said, picking up two metal cups, “A test of strength which will not endanger my new spouse,” Thor bristled at that, but remained silent. “We shall each take a cup and try and break it into as many pieces as possible.”

Thor stood and took one of the cups from Loki’s hand, turning it over slowly as he examined it. 

“That is not a difficult task,” he said uncertainly.

“No,” Loki laughed, glad that Thor had fallen for his scheme, “But we shall not have all night to do it. You must do it as quickly as you can and whoever breaks it into the most pieces is the winner.”

“Agreed,” Thor nodded, still weighing the cup in his hand, not seeming to notice or care how inexact the rules of the contest were. 

“First, before we begin, you must swear that you will abide by the results of the contest, no matter if you win or lose.”

“I swear it,” Thor said glumly, turning his face to the floor, “Will you swear the same oath, brother?”

“I swear, husband,” Loki said, smirking widely so that his sharp teeth glinted in the firelight. “Let us begin.”

Thor put the fingers of both hands inside his cup and pulled, trying to rend the cup in two, grunting with exertion already. Loki put his hand into the cup and called forth the Jotun ice that flowed in his veins. His hand cooled rapidly, becoming as cold as the ice of Jotunheim. The metal of the cup cracked at the sudden drop in temperature, already becoming brittle and weak. Loki grinned triumphantly, pushing out his hand as his cup shattered into hundreds of tiny, frozen shards of metal.

“Loki!” Thor yelled in surprise, “What trickery is this? You said you would not use your magic! This contest is forfeit.”

“It is not,” Loki cooed, holding out his blue hand and letting it turn back to the white that Thor was more familiar with. “You forgot who you were competing against, and what a Jotun is able to do.”

Thor let out a pained noise and dropped his cup to the ground. It was cracked and damaged, but still in one piece.

“Come, husband,” Loki stepped towards him, his shoes crunching on the splinters of metal. Thor took a step backwards, the back of his knees hitting the bed. “You have a promise to keep.”

Thor’s long blond hair fell across his cheeks as he hung his head. 

“You must not speak of what we do tonight to another soul,” Thor said, his voice deep and defiant, but Loki knew that he had already won. 

“I would not dream of it,” he said, spreading his hands in mock indignation. There had been a time when he had considered spreading rumours of this night to each of the Nine Realms; he would have sown tales of the wanton way that Thor spread his legs and begged to be taken. Tonight, the idea repulsed him. Thor was his and the idea that others might think about, might imagine, what it would be like to possess him made Loki want to vomit in rage.

“Thank you, brother,” Thor looked up suddenly, his piercing eyes so full of _relief_ and hope. Loki picked up his hand and brought it to his lips

“Husband,” he corrected in a whisper, dropping a kiss upon Thor’s knuckles. 

“Husband,” Thor repeated, but he sounded lost and uncertain. Loki smiled and, releasing his husband’s hand, began to undo the stays on Thor’s bridal garments. The cloth fell from his shoulders, loose and tantalising. Loki put his hand to Thor’s chest and pushed the cloth to the side, exposing his tits. Thor’s nipples pebbled, greedy for Loki’s attention; he smiled at them, his thumbs grazing over them. He thought that he heard Thor quietly whimper, but he couldn’t be sure.

Loki brushed his fingers slowly down, along the crests and troughs of Thor’s muscles. In the silence of the room, with his ears strained for any more of his brother’s noises, he could hear Thor’s breath speed up; welcoming his touch, desiring it even. It was too much. He couldn’t wait any longer. With a growl and a burst of seidr, he dissolved both their clothes from their bodies.

Thor froze, shocked into stillness by his sudden nudity and he took advantage by pushing Thor, forcing him to stumble backwards and onto the bed.

It had been years since he had seen Thor naked. Not since their childhood, when they had shared baths together with all the ease of children. As he grew older, Thor had preferred to bathe alone, hiding himself away from his brother. Now he was finally revealed to Loki once again and he had become glorious. 

He wanted to spend time looking at every part of him, to savour the sweetness of having Thor laid before him, to use and to plunder, but it was agony to simply look at Thor and not touch him. Later, after he had made Thor truly his, then he would admire his new husband at leisure. 

There was no oil next to the bed and Loki didn’t have the patience to do more than glance around the room to look for some. Thor was watching him, his wide eyes fixed on Loki’s cock, following its every movement as Loki turned to look for oil. 

He smirked, holding back a taunt. Thor had been so easy to convince and he couldn’t afford to scare him now. Kneeling in between his brother’s leg, he ran his hands up and along his inner thighs, watching the way Thor’s cock jumped, begging for his attention. 

He’d been waiting for this moment for years, anticipating it each night when he lay in bed. It felt like he’d been hard since he left Asgard, sure in the knowledge that his goal was in sight. Ignoring Thor’s cock, he pushed Thor’s thighs further apart, his fingertips grazing at his brother’s hole. It was so impossibly small looking that if Loki hadn’t known, hadn’t seen and tasted, his brother’s dildo, he would have doubted that it were possible to fit anything inside. 

“Loki,” his brother called softly, lifting his head from the pillow. “Here.” He held out a small vial of oil. It was half-empty. Loki looked between it and Thor’s eyes. Did he even realise what he was telling Loki by handing him this? Did he understand that he was admitting to using it on himself? He’d brought it with him, expecting them to consummate their marriage, despite all his talk that this was merely a political union. 

Loki smiled, not hiding his pleasure. His smile was too wide, but he didn’t care. Thor went still, blushing like a maiden, as if he’d just realised the reason for Loki’s pleasure. His hand remained out, still offering the vial to Loki even as he blushed and dropped his head. Loki unstoppered the vial, pouring it over his fingers and throwing the cork onto the floor. 

The slightest touch of his glistening fingertips to Thor’s rim made him gasp, spreading himself wider, silently begging Loki for more. It struck him then, just as he was on the brink of achieving his goal, what he had given up when he left Asgard. He had forfeited the right to be called Odin’s son, or to inherit the throne of Asgard on his own merit. He would still rule, but only jointly, with his husband. As he slipped a finger into Thor’s arse, he found he didn’t care, his victory was complete. 

Thor’s back arched, pushing up his tits as his breath picked up, gasping in air as if Loki had struck him. He pumped back and forth, watching his finger disappear into Thor, amazed at the heat inside his body. The muscles of Thor’s arse relaxed slightly and he shoved another finger in, needing his brother to be ready now.

Odin’s son, laid out before him and his forever more. He smiled and smeared oil on his cock. Thor was still tight around his fingers, but Loki was tired of waiting and he wanted his brother to feel every inch of his penetration. He wanted him to feel this for days afterwards. He wanted to fuck Thor every night for the rest of eternity so that it became natural for Thor to feel a soreness in his arse. He wanted Thor to feel him with every step that he took for the rest of his life. He pulled his fingers from with Thor with a satisfying squelch.

He pushed Thor’s knees up, exposing his brother’s winking hole. Thor grabbed hold of his own legs so eagerly, so knowledgeably, as if it were a motion he’d made a thousand times before, that Loki paused, suddenly uncertain. 

“Now,” Thor breathed, pushing his hips up and Loki obeyed. He slid into Thor, not stopping until he was fully sheathed. His eyes fluttered shut against his will; he wanted to watch Thor break apart beneath him, he wanted to destroy him with ecstasy, but Thor was too tight, too hot, too overwhelming. This was perfection and he couldn’t stop himself from fucking into Thor, too fast, too rough but there wasn’t time to do anything else. He was already too close and he could feel his orgasm rushing towards him.

Beneath him, Thor writhed, moaning gratuitously with each snap of Loki’s hips and he needed Thor to admit that he had wanted this, that he desired Loki, but he couldn’t think past the tight squeeze of Thor’s arse.

“Never deceive me again, you were made for this, for my cock. Swear that you will never refuse me again,” Loki hissed, pushing himself into Thor until he thought he might lose himself. His throat was dry, his voice rasping so that it sounded oddly fierce and deep in his own ears. Thor nodded inarticulately, his eyes glazed but, when he opened his mouth, he only screamed, come spurting from his cock and hitting his own belly, wasting the seed of the heir of Asgard.

Loki stilled as Thor’s arse contracted around him, groaning in pleasure. He had done this. He had made Thor come without even a finger laid upon his brother’s cock. Swallowing as his hips made short, jerky thrusts almost of their own volition, he put a hand to Thor’s belly and touched the evidence of Thor’s lust for him. It was warm on Thor’s golden skin and he smeared his fingers through it, needing to convince himself that it was real, that there was no trickery to this. 

Finally convinced, he drove back into Thor, pounding into him with the full force of his body.

“Swear it, swear that you are mine,” Loki yelled, knowing that he was near his end; he could hear the madness in his voice and could feel his eyes flashing red but he could not stop. This was all he’d ever wanted and he could not let it go now. He wanted this to last forever, but it couldn’t, he was too close and his hips were pumping into Thor, refusing to stop or slow down. He came, groaning deeply and collapsing on top of Thor as he pumped his seed into his brother.

Strong arms caught him, hugging him close with a gentleness that almost made Loki roll away. He pushed up to see Thor’s face and make him swear it but, before he could make his demand, Thor reached up and touched his cheek. His muscular chest was coated with sweat and Loki wanted to push his breasts together and lick the sweat from them. 

“Peace, husband.”

The casual way that he acknowledged Loki made his cock twitch, valiantly trying to harden again. 

“Husband,” Loki acknowledged, his softening cock slipping out of Thor. He didn’t need to make Thor swear anything, he could see that now, as he gazed down at the look of stupid adoration on Thor’s face. He rolled off Thor, lying down next to him but letting Thor gather him in his thick arms. There was an idiotic grin on Thor’s face. He looked happier than Loki had seen him in years, happier than his friends ever made him, happier than he was on his ridiculous hunting trips or monotonous sparring sessions. Loki reached up, tracing the smile with his finger. He had made Thor look like that and, for once, Loki felt truly satisfied.


End file.
